Tales From Gotham City: Your hands look plenty filthy to me
by alanish2
Summary: Jim Gordon faces some tough decisions. He's been convinced to cover up Harvey Dent's crimes, and lay the blame at the feet of the one man he trusts. But he's not the only one who knows their secret. When someone starts murdering those who know, can Gordon stop them, while juggling the press and making sure a madman gets what he deserves? **Sorry about the updates being so slow**.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"The Joker won..."

The late night air was getting colder and colder. The mist of Commissioner Jim Gordon's breath floated into the air and faded, until it seemed like it might never have been there at all. He was panting, still a little out of breath from climbing down the broken stairs of the half collapsed wreck that used to be a warehouse... Two-fifty, fifty-second street...

_Where's my family?_

"All of Harvey's prosecutions", he said, his voice – his soul – deflated. "Everything he fought for...undone". As he spoke his eyes darted between the dark figure stood in front of him... and the darker figure of Harvey Dent lying unmoving on the ground.

_Where my family died._

Gordon swallowed, trying to push down the horrible feeling that was growing in the pit of his stomach. Harvey's scarred face... it would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life.

He forced himself to pull his eyes away from Dent, and back to the man who moments before had saved the life of his son. "Whatever chance you gave us of fixing our city dies with Harvey's reputation", he continued. "We bet it all on him. The Joker took the best of us and tore him down. People will lose hope."

There was the briefest of pauses, and the air between the two was so thick that Gordon worried he might drown in it. Finally, the silent figure spoke.

"They won't", he growled. "They must never know what he did." The Batman turned slightly, and Gordon caught a glimpse of his tired eyes – they looked like they had no hope.

"Five dead", Gordon said. "Two of them cops...you can't sweep that up." For the first time, Gordon noticed the way the Batman cradled his ribs in his arm. He realised then just how fragile he must have been, and wondered how he could possibly bear the weight of an entire city on his shoulders. He was a person. Gordon – along with everyone else in the city – had lost sight of that. He was as fragile as anyone else...

"But the Joker cannot win", the Batman said, turning to face Gordon. "Gotham needs its true hero". The Batman's eyes, barely a minute ago so lost and without hope, now pierced Gordon with their unwavering determination. Gordon understood his meaning immediately.

"No!" he exclaimed. The very idea filled him with revulsion.

"'You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain'", he said, a reference that Gordon did not recognise. "I can do those things, because I'm not a hero, not like Dent. _I_ killed those people. That's what I can be."

Gordon's mind raced, trying to find some other way out of this. "No, you can't!" he cried. "You're not!"

"I'm whatever Gotham needs me to be", the Batman replied. "Call it in." Gordon watched as a black hand reached out to him. As he stared at the police radio the was held loosely in its grip, Gordon realised that there were no other options. If he didn't do... _this..._ If he didn't agree to this lie, then hundreds of convictions would be quashed, hundreds of criminals released back onto the streets. And without Dent... he didn't see any hope of sending them back. The city would spiral back downwards, like it had been before. And Gordon refused to let _his city _sink back that far.

He reached his hand out slowly, and took the police radio from the Batman's hand. The horrible feeling that until then had been consigned to the pit of his stomach overwhelmed him when his fingers grasped the plastic casing. He cradled the radio in his hands for a few moments, doing nothing but stare at it. It had to be done, he knew. But he couldn't. Not yet. He hadn't the will.

Gordon lifted his face up, and met the eyes of his friend. "They'll hunt you", he said weakly.

"_You'll _hunt me", Batman replied instantly. "You'll condemn me, set the dogs on me. Because that's what needs to happen. Because sometimes... the truth isn't good enough. Sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded".

The two stared at each other for a moment longer. Gordon wavered once more, and thought of trying one last time to convince the Batman not to go through with this. But one look at the steely determination in his eyes was enough to tell Gordon that there was no backing down from this. There was no other way.

The sound of sirens echoed quietly around them, and they both knew that time had run out. Wordlessly, the Batman turned and limped quickly away. Gordon let out a sigh that he had been holding in for a long time.

"Batman?" A voice that he recognised called out to the figure that was barely visible now in the distance.

"Batman!" his son called out again, now stood beside Gordon. Without looking up at his father – eyes still fixed on the disappearing figure of the Batman – his son asked the question that Gordon was dreading answering. "Why is he running, Dad?"

Gordon swallowed again. _Because we lost... _a voice echoed in his head. But he was damned if he was going to lie to his son. If he couldn't make his own son understand why he was doing this, then there was no hope... no justification.

"Because we have to chase him", Gordon said wearily. He felt two figures emerge from the ruined building behind them – his wife and his daughter. They stopped, perhaps five yards behind them, sensing that something was wrong.

"He didn't do anything wrong", Gordon's son said.

_No... _Gordon thought. _No he didn't... _

"Because he's the hero Gotham deserves", he said out loud. "But not the one it needs right now. So, we'll hunt him, because he can take it. Because he's not a hero. He's a silent guardian. A watchful protector. A Dark Knight."

A moment of silence passed between them, and Gordon heard the familiar sound of police sirens – closer now, almost there.

"I don't get it..." his son said. Gordon glanced down at him and saw that his face was contorted in a mixture of confusion and sadness. It broke his heart to see his son so upset. He turned to him and knelt down in front of him, so that their faces were level. He tried to find the words to explain why this had to happen. To find a way to explain to a ten year old boy why building a lie... why that was the right thing to do.

But as he opened his mouth to speak, their quiet was interrupted by deafening sirens, and a police car sped into the car park and skidded to a halt. Gordon didn't turn to look at it. Instead, he held the confused gaze of his son, trying to tell him with his eyes that he had to _stay quiet_.

And he noticed without surprise that it had started to rain. The tiny drops surrounded them, turning the floor into mud.

Gordon heard the sound of a car door slamming shut behind him. He raised his hand gently and stroked the cheek of his son, before turning him gently and pushing him towards Barbara. Then he turned and, for the first time, looked at the two cops that had arrived.

Both of their eyes were filled with... what? Surprise? Their gazes were fixed on the body of Harvey Dent.

"What...?" one of them stuttered. "What the hell happened here, Commissioner?" Both of them turned their attention to him, and Gordon knew that now was the moment. Now was the time to lie, to condemn the man who had just saved his family's life – and his. For a moment he didn't think the words would leave his lips – he tried to form the words, every time he tried to speak he felt as though he would vomit.

Finally, though, the words came. "The Batman did this", he said, grimly. Once those first words were out in the open, he was sickened by how easily the rest of the lie came. "He murdered Harvey Dent. He murdered Wuertz. Maroni. Maroni's driver. He murdered Jameson and Carlos. He's a cop killer. A murderer..."

"Liar!" his son's voice screamed from behind them. "You're lying. Why are you saying that?" Gordon closed his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to turn around – to see the condemnation in his wife's eyes, or the anger in his son's... Instead, he held the gaze of the two men in front of him.

"It's... Anderson, isn't it?" he said, pointing to the tall, red haired man on his left. The man nodded. "And Lee?" He said, gesturing to the much younger man on his right.

Gordon knew that they would be suspicious. He needed to separate them. "Lee", he said. "Stay with my family. Make sure they stay safe. Anderson... we're going after the Batman".

Gordon looked briefly over his shoulder back at his wife. He hoped to God that she understood what was happening, and would stop their son from speaking. He didn't want Lee to know any more than he already did. The fewer people that were involved in this, the safer it would be.

He strode over to the passenger door and climbed in. Anderson followed behind. As the police car pulled back out of the car park and out onto the highway, Gordon finally raised the radio to his lips.

"All units", he said. Any hesitation that he had before had dropped away, replaced by a numbness. He didn't think that he would ever escape that feeling again. "This is an APB. The Batman is wanted for murder. I repeat, the Batman is wanted for murder. Take him down by whatever means necessary". He leant his head back against the car seat and closed his eyes. After a moment, he raised the radio back to his lips. "Take him in alive", he said quietly.

"Sir", Anderson said, nervously. "What's going on here, Commissioner? Since when does the Batman kill people?"

"I don't know, son..." Gordon said, staring out of the car window at the darkness outside. "I guess he must have... snapped. It doesn't matter. What matters is... seeing justice done". _Justice_, he thought to himself. _There's not much of that going around these days..._

The radio suddenly burst into life – just static at first, but it quickly turned into a woman's voice. "_skkkrt Batman sighted_", the voice said. "_I repeat... Batman sighted. He's on Avenue 12, headed out to the Palisades. We are in pursuit. Wish us luck_".

Gordon grabbed the radio. "This is the Commissioner", he said loudly. "Do not engage. Wait for reinforcements, and try to keep him cornered. We're close by".

Both Gordon and Anderson waited for the radio to burst into life again. It was agonising – their police siren blared out around them, but other than for that and the sound of the engine there was no noise. As they turned onto Avenue 12, the radio flared back into life.

"_skkkrt Batman is cornered", _the same woman's voice said. "_The Batman is cornered. He's in an alleyway, between the power plant and the water treatment facility. Three cars on the scene. Requesting back-up"._

_Damn_. Gordon had been banking on the Batman escaping. How could he let himself get cornered? If he got caught now... Gordon knew he wouldn't be able to keep this lie going in court. And that's where it would lead – the Batman, whoever he was, would stand trial for six murders. And Gordon would have to testify.

He shook his head. They weren't there yet. There had to be some way out of this. As they pulled up to the alleyway they saw another two cars arrive. That made six in all – twelve officers. No doubt more were en route.

Gordon scanned the area. He knew exactly what needed to be done. As soon as the car he was in stopped he pushed open the door and climbed out. "OK people", he said loudly. A group of nervous faces turned towards him, and a couple of their expressions turned to relief. _Good_, Gordon thought. _They're scared. They all know what the Batman can do – hell, half of them have always been as frightened of him as the criminals are. And now it's worse. They think he's snapped, and they don't know what to do. They're looking to someone – anyone – to tell them. Hopefully they won't think too much about what I'm saying..._

"Right", Gordon continued. "I want two people covering the entrance to the alleyway. I want six of you up in the buildings either side – three in each. The rest of you, go in there and flush him out. Force him to make a move. As soon as the people in the buildings spot him, take him down". He turned away and faced Anderson. "You're staying here with me", he said.

"Oh, and be careful", he added as an afterthought. "This man in extremely dangerous. Don't get careless with your lives". Gordon smiled inside – that should put a little more fear in them. As the frightened cops around him broke themselves into three groups, Gordon felt a pang of guilt. He had deliberately left the entrance to the alleyway open – just three cops, plus himself. He knew that the Batman would have no trouble getting through. He just hoped that no one else could see – or that, if they could, they would think that he'd just made a bad call.

But as he turned back to Anderson he could see suspicion already forming in his mind. It was a problem that he would have to deal with later.

"OK", he said, not taking his eyes off Anderson. "Move in". He said it loud enough that he hoped the Batman could hear, and he hoped he was getting ready to move. With any luck, these kids would get out of this without getting hurt. "Take positions".

Gordon knelt behind the car that he and Anderson arrived in, and motioned for Anderson to kneel next to him. They both drew their guns and watched as the four unlucky cops made their way slowly into the dark alleyway, trying to flush out a man that they were all terrified of.

They had made it barely a few yards in when they were blinded by a bright light, and then deafened by the roar of an engine. Gordon raised his hand in front of his eyes, as though he were blinded by the light himself. It would give him an excuse for not firing. Next to him, however, Anderson had already opened fire.

It was too late. The Batman surged towards them. Gordon caught sight of a few sparks caused by bullets hitting the metal of his bike, but none of them even slowed him down. As he approached the entrance to the alley, Gordon saw the Batman lift his arm, and as he flew past he threw something toward the car that Gordon knelt behind. For the briefest of moments, Gordon actually thought that it might be some kind of bomb. _Wouldn't that be ironic... _he thought bitterly. Anderson was still shooting. Gordon lunged at him, and shoved him hard away from the car.

Whatever the Batman had thrown hit the car's back wheel and burst it open. Gordon felt the wind in through his hair as the bike shot past them, and he watched on as the Batman once again disappeared into the night.

Gordon struggled to his feet, and made a show of hurrying. "Get after him", he cried out. "Everyone. Quickly!"

There was a mad scramble as the cops up in the buildings hurried down to their cars. By the time the first of the cars pulled away Gordon was sure that the Batman would be far enough away to be safe. Still, he watched the police cars drive away one after the other, and realised how close their lie had come to collapsing before it had even been built.

After a minute or so only he and Anderson remained. Anderson still wore the look of a man trying to hide that he was suspicious. Gordon could feel his piercing gaze burning a hole through him every time he looked away.

"What is it, Anderson?" he asked. "Is there something you want to say?"

Anderson frowned at him, and hesitated. "Uh..." he mumbled. Then he seemed to steel himself, and Gordon knew he wasn't going to get away from this easily. "I could have got him", Anderson continued. "I had a clear shot, and you pushed me to the ground".

"The Batman threw something at the car we were kneeling next to", Gordon said. "I thought it was some kind of explosive. I was wrong. Better to be safe than dead".

Anderson looked away, but he was clearly not satisfied. Gordon let out a long sigh. He had no interest in having this conversation now. He hadn't realised before, but he was so _tired_. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

"You feel up to helping me with the spare tyre, son?" he asked as he moved to the back of the car.

Wordlessly, Anderson followed. Together they removed the tire that had been burst and fixed their spare tire in its place. By the time they had finished it was past two in the morning, and Gordon wanted nothing more than to go home to his wife and children.

He climbed into the passenger side of the car and let his head fall backwards onto the seat. "Take me home", he said, and he closed his eyes.

After a moment, another thought struck him. A thought that jolted him awake. "Anderson", he said quickly.

"What happened to the Joker?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_I can't do this..._

Gordon stood in the pouring rain, in the light of the street lamp outside the front door of his home. He stared at the rusted bronze handle, and tried to work up the courage to go inside. But he couldn't. He knew that they would be waiting, with their anger. With their _disappointment_.

He closed his eyes, and he thought back to where it all started. Why had he come back to this god forsaken city? This city that he had tried to hard to get away from. Twenty-five years ago, as a rookie, this city had taught him everything that he knew. It had taught him pain, and it had taught him corruption. And he hated it for that.

So he'd escaped. He'd escaped to a harmless town, in the middle of nowhere. Cleveland. And there he had spent ten years working his way from a rookie to a sergeant. He loved it there – it was quiet. Peaceful.

Of course there had been crime – some of it horrific. Every place has its dark corners. Every place has parts that it would like to bury and forget about. But in every place but Gotham they just seemed... had sunk further and further, until its dark corners enveloped the whole city. And it had never recovered.

And so he had run away. And he was happy. He'd fallen in love, with Barbara. He still remembered the day that they met – a bunch of cops had organised a party at the local community hall, and Barbara had somehow been roped in to running the bar. Gordon saw her as soon as he walked in, and she took his breath away. He knew that she was the woman he would marry.

It wasn't easy, though. She was already dating someone – Gordon's partner, no less. His name was Jack Holland, and he was one of the toughest sons of bitches Gordon had ever met. Nothing seemed to phase him – he could take thugs down like they were made of paper. Back in those days Gordon was still learning, and he took a lot of things from Holland, his moral compass included. Holland seemed unwavering in his duty – nothing was more important that getting justice. Not even the rules. There was something about that ideology Gordon could... relate to.

Of course, that was before Holland was exposed as a corrupt cop. One day, Gordon walked in on him stealing seized drugs to sell on. Seemed he had been doing it for years. Holland tried to convince Gordon to join him. Tried to cut him in. Kept telling him to _get wise_... wouldn't be the last time someone would say that to him.

Gordon ratted him out. It was the end of Holland's career, and the end of his relationship with Barbara. And Gordon was the shoulder that she cried on. He'd never spoken to her about Holland since then, and he'd never said out loud that it was him who sent him down.

But through her mourning for her relationship, they became closer and closer. And as their own relationship grew stronger and stronger, his life at work became worse and worse. The other cops were afraid of him – afraid of stepping even a little out of line while he was there. Each day he could feel their eyes burning into him. Gordon was a rat in their eyes, and slowly, over the next few months, they came to hate him for it. At first there were insults – nothing too abusive, though. Only things that they could pass off as banter, pass off as a joke. When he complained to his lieutenant, they paid no attention. That was when Gordon realised that his career in Cleveland was over.

He proposed to Barbara, and shamelessly waited until after she had said yes before he told her he wanted to move back to Gotham. And Barbara, still delirious from the proposal, agreed before she could think about what it really meant. And so, thirteen years ago, Gordon and his wife had moved back to a place that he had spent his youth trying to escape. A place that had brought him as low as he had ever been. A place that he hated still. Gotham.

He had condemned his children before they were even born.

And now, as he stood still staring at the front door of his house – trying to work up the courage to face those whose lives he had ruined – all those years of guilt came flooding back to him. It was time to face up to it.

He grabbed the door handle and entered his home.

He noticed the suit cases immediately. Three of them, lying open and half full on the ground at the centre of their living room. Gordon stood in the doorway dripping wet... knowing what they meant. He could hear someone in he and his wife's bedroom, and he slowly turned around and looked inside.

Barbara was there, tearing her clothes out of their drawers and piling them on their bed. For a moment he just watched her. She was beautiful. Just as beautiful as the first day they'd met – when she had taken his breath away. He loved her, but he knew that he would let her go...

"Hi", he said quietly. Barbara turned, surprised, and her eyes widened a little. Gordon wondered bitterly if she had been trying to get out before he got home, to spare herself having to say goodbye. "What are you doing?" he asked, although he knew the answer.

Barbara stopped what she had been doing, and she stood there and stared at him. It was hurting her, Gordon knew. It had been hurting her for thirteen years. Ever since they had moved... ever since he had _dragged _her to Gotham. This had never been a place to raise children. This had never been a place for decent people to live.

Gordon heard her sigh, and she tore her eyes away from his. "We're leaving, Jim", she said. Her voice quivered as though she were struggling against tears. Gordon felt himself well up inside, and had to swallow his own tears back down. "Tonight".

Gordon looked around, over his shoulder, at the empty living room behind him. "Where are the kids?" he asked.

"They're asleep, for now", she said. "They were terrified tonight, Jim. They needed their father to wrap them in his arms, to tell them that they were safe. And... I needed you as well. But you left us. You _left _us".

Barbara's voice was still quiet, but Gordon could feel the anger. An anger that had been building for a long time. His family had suffered a lot since the Batman had arrived. Since Gordon had started to hope that there might be a way to save Gotham. Especially in the past couple of weeks. First he had put them through faking his own death, without even stopping to think how it would traumatise them. And then... Dent. He wanted his wife to stay with him. He wanted to lean over and hold her. He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin on his, because he knew if he could then everything would feel like it was alright.

But he didn't deserve her. He knew that. He accepted that.

He coughed to clear his throat, and he moved slowly over to their bed and sat down on the end. After a moment's hesitation, Barbara sat next to him.

"Where will you go?" he asked.

"Back to Cleveland", she said. "My parents still live out there. We can stay with them for as long as we need to. Until I can find a job, and we can get a place of our own. Come _with _us, Jim. This place is dragging you down. Sometimes... sometimes I don't recognise you any more".

Gordon's eyes were closed. He had silently hoped that she wouldn't ask him to go with her – that she didn't want him any more. Then he wouldn't have been forced to choose. He looked at his wife, and his eyes must have given her all the answer she needed, because her face fell.

Both of them were silent for a while. Gordon listened to the sound of the rain hitting his roof, and wondered why he felt so responsible for this town. Why he cared so much. There was so much on his shoulders, and it was unfair. He often wondered why the Batman approached him, way back before any of this had started. Things were simple back then – they were awful, and horrible, and terrifying, but at least they were simple. If he kept to himself, then he would be left alone.

And then... that day, sat at his desk, he had felt something cold and hard press against the back of his head. He immediately thought it was a gun, and froze. And that voice... the _growl _that he was now so used to. Gordon thought he had just been some _nut_, and now he knew that he hadn't been far wrong.

Things were meant to get better. He Batman was meant to make things better. But now, sat on his bed saying goodbye to his wife, he questioned whether they had really made a difference.

"I..." his wife said, breaking him away from his thoughts. "I understand what you're doing. With Dent, I mean. You kept telling me – over and over – that he was going to make this city better. And you're going to keep it that way, aren't you? Regardless of the truth. I never knew that you could break the rules, Jim. You've changed. He's changed you".

"It's the only way", Gordon sighed. "The rules are just... holding us back. If we want to make a difference, we need to make new rules. That's what he's been doing this last eighteen months. He's been making new rules".

"I don't want an explanation", Barbara interrupted. "I just thought you'd want to know that... I understand. I don't condone it, but I understand why you're doing it".

Gordon nodded, slowly. It did make him feel better, knowing that his wife, at least, understood. "When are you leaving?" he asked, his voice cracking a little.

"As soon as we're packed", Barbara replied. She stood, and continued to sort out what she was taking with her.

Gordon left his bedroom and walked over to his son's room. He opened the door slowly, not wanting to wake him until it was time to go. He wasn't too surprised when he found his son lying awake on his bed. When his son saw him, he slowly turned over and buried his face in his pillow, and Gordon's heart broke a little bit more. His son was disappointed in him, he knew, and that hurt more than anything else.

Gordon sat down gently beside his son, and stroked his hair. "Hey", he said softly.

His son buried his face even further into his pillow. "You lied", he said, his voice muffled. "You blamed the Batman for everything. How could you do that? Didn't he save you? Didn't he save me?"

Gordon paused for a moment, and tried to think of the words to explain everything to his son. "Look at me", he said softly. When his son didn't move, he repeated himself. "Hey, look at me".

Reluctantly, his son turned back over and looked at his father. His eyes were red, as though he had been crying, and Gordon wondered if Barbara had told them that they were leaving yet.

"Dent was an important person", Gordon said. "A very important person. Until the end he was also a good person. He helped me and Batman lock up a lot of horrible people. People who needed to be locked up. Together, we made the streets safer for everyone.

"But if people find out what he... _turned into_ at the end, then all those people that we locked up together will be let back out of prison. All the things we've done to make this city better will be torn down. So the Batman said we had to lie. It was... it was _his _idea, son. Put all the blame on him so that those people will stay in prison. I have to lie. Do you understand?"

His son sat up in his bed and wiped the tears in his eyes away with his sleeve. He looked into Gordon's face, and to Gordon's relief he nodded. "I guess", he said. "A little, anyway. But... secrets and lies. They don't stay hidden forever".

Gordon looked at his son. He didn't know what to say. He knew his son was right – there was no way this could last forever, so why even start?

He heard the quiet squeak of the bedroom door opening, and Barbara's head appeared. "It's time", she said. "Let's go, James".

Gordon hugged his son, and he watched as his climbed out of bed and hurried past his mother. Barbara lingered in the doorway for a few moments longer, and her and Gordon said goodbye with their eyes.

And then she was gone – they were all gone – and Gordon was left on his own. He knew that this was how it had to be.

He laid down on his son's bed, and after a while he fell silently asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Bang!_

Gordon felt the recoil of his gun push his shoulder violently backwards, leaving the slightest of aches behind it. He would never admit it to anyone, but he loved that feeling. He loved the physicality of firing a gun – people thought that it was easy, that it was the simplest way of killing someone. But they were wrong. You have to fight it all the way, fight to keep it in line. If you don't then whoever you're aiming at will turn around and kill you.

The shooting range was empty. Not really surprising given it was the early hours of the morning, but the way the gunfire pierced the silence was still unnerving.

After his family had left him, Gordon had spent barely an hour asleep. When he woke, he was still on his son's bed, and he could still smell him on the sheets. The memories of the night before came flooding back before Gordon could stop them, and the only thing he could think to do was come here and let all his frustration flow into his trigger finger.

_Bang!_

The bullet hit the target in the shoulder, exactly where Gordon had aimed. Though he secretly liked the way his gun felt in his hands, he still couldn't bring himself to aim for the head. Even in practice he didn't feel comfortable taking the killing shot.

His gun was empty. He let the empty clip fall from the gun's handle, and grabbed a replacement from the shelf by his knees. As he slid it into his gun he heard the door to the shooting range click open and then, a few seconds later, slam shut. Gordon didn't bother looking around – he had no interest in speaking to them, no matter who they were.

Footsteps echoed around the room as Gordon lifted his arm up to resume firing. He held back and listened to them move closer and closer to him. They stopped in the stall next to him, and out of the corner of his eye Gordon could now see who the person was.

_Bang!_

"Stephens", he said without looking at his visitor.

Stephens looked at the side of Gordon's head for a few moments, and then he grabbed the gun that was waiting for him on the counter. "Jim", he said. Stephens picked up one of the targets and hooked it onto the clip. Then he used the button on the wall to move the target further and further back along the room until it was right next to Gordon's.

The two men spent a few minutes just firing at their targets. Neither man uttered a word. Finally, after maybe ten minutes, Stephen's frustration got the better of him. He slammed his gun down on the counter.

"Jim, tell me what the hell is going on!" he shouted. "This is horse shit! Everything's messed up, and I know you know more than you're telling us. I don't believe for one second that the Batman murdered those people, so what is it?"

_Bang!_

Gordon didn't even pause. He didn't flinch, and he didn't let his eyes betray him. _So easy… _he thought to himself. _So easy to keep this lie going…_

"You don't trust me?" Gordon asked. "After all these years, you don't trust me?"

"Don't make this about you and me", Stephens replied angrily. "Don't you dare! This is a cover up, and unless you tell me why you're involved then I'm going to do whatever I can to expose it. Dammit, Jim, we'll hound him until he's dead! Everyone thinks he's a cop killer!"

Gordon sighed and let his arms fall to his sides. _Damn…_he thought. He didn't know how to handle this. He'd never been in this situation before. Sure, he'd lied to his colleagues before. Back in the old days, he knew all sorts of dirty little secrets – about his colleagues, his superiors, everyone. But he had kept quiet because it was none of his business. For the first time he found himself longing for those simpler days.

"I know you're lying, Jim", Stephens continued. "And you're hurting an innocent man. What would Barbara think?"

Gordon's eyes darted to the side, and they fixed Stephens with a gaze that would have made the Devil himself cover in fear. At the mere mention of his wife his blood had rushed straight to his head, and he was struggling not to lose his temper.

"I don't know", he said through gritted teeth. "She left me last night".

_Bang!_

Stephens' eyes widened in surprise and then they dropped to the floor. "I'm sorry, Jim", he said. "But that doesn't change anything. Just… tell me what's going on".

Something happened then. Something inside Gordon… _broke_. He felt tired. More tired than he had ever been. He had lost his wife and his children. He had told lies about his friend, and turned everyone that he knew against him. He was damned if he was going to let Stephens judge him.

"It's… dangerous", Gordon said wearily. "Very dangerous. It's the kind of thing that will take over your life. You're sure you want to know?"

Stephens paused for the briefest of moments, and then he nodded slowly. Gordon moved closer to him, until the two men were barely five inches apart. Gordon's head was pounding – half of his mind was screaming that he couldn't do this, that it was too dangerous, that it was unfair. The other half was pushing him forward, telling him to share the burden… He didn't know which side to listen to.

Before he could choose, he heard the sound of the door slamming open. Both men were so tightly wound that they jumped at the sudden noise, and both turned sharply. It was Anderson.

"Commissioner", he said, slightly out of breath. "The Mayor wants to see you. Sounds pretty urgent".

Gordon looked at Stephens, a little apologetically. In truth he was relieved – the interruption had at least postponed the decision that he knew he would have to make one way or the other. But… he was leaving one boiling pot and being thrown into another. The Mayor… he would want answers too. But there was no way he could tell him the truth. Even if Gordon had trusted him, it was too risky. Too many people knew or suspected already.

He'd have to make sure of his story.

* * *

Security was still high at City Hall. Seemed that the thought of the Batman snapping was enough to keep everyone on edge, even with the Joker behind bars. In the entrance hall there were cops lining the walls, and as Gordon looked at their nervous faces he felt a little guilty. It was his fault that they were scared. These people… none of them knew that they were really safe.

Gordon climbed the stairs at the back of the hall, and stood alone outside the door to the Mayor's office. On the way over there, he had gone over and over his story again and again, making sure there were no holes, and nothing to make anyone else suspicious. But now that it came to actually trying to convince someone, Gordon started to feel nervous.

He knocked three times. He heard the Mayor's muffled voice call him in, and he pushed the door open slowly. The Mayor was stood staring out of the large office window, which looked out over Gotham. In the past, Gordon had been grateful to have a Mayor who seemed so committed to making Gotham a better place to live. He'd been a valuable ally, along with Dent. But now… the Mayor's integrity was a hindrance. Gordon was the one on the wrong side of the law. It was an… unfamiliar feeling.

"Take a seat, Jim", the Mayor said without turning. Gordon walking further into the room and took a seat in front of the Mayor's desk.

"Well", the Mayor continued, still staring out of the window. "This has certainly gone downhill fast. Can you feel it? The change in people. I really thought that things were going to get better… everyone did. Dent… people _believed _in him. They believed in the Batman too. And now both are gone, for different reasons". He turned around slowly and took a long look at Gordon, who for his part had to struggle to meet his gaze. Then the Mayor moved across and sat down in the large chair behind his desk.

"Explain it to me", he said, leaning back. "Tell me what happened".

Gordon sighed and rubbed the back of his head. It was a nervous tick, something that he did whenever he lied. It was a good thing the Mayor didn't know him well enough to know that. "I really don't know", he said. "We trusted the Batman. All of us. You, me… Gotham. I can't give you an explanation for what he's done. If it tried it would just be a guess…"

"So guess", the Mayor said. He had leaned forward while Gordon was talking, and now he had his elbows on his desk and his head resting on his hands. "You had more contact with the Batman than anyone. Don't pretend that you didn't. You knew him. So guess".

Gordon's head fell backwards and he spent a moment staring at the ceiling, trying to think of the right words to say. "Maybe…" he said. "The pressure got too much for him. He tried to take everyone on his own. Maybe he couldn't cope".

"Dent did the same thing", the Mayor said. "And he coped. But I guess… Dent was a special case. So what happened yesterday?"

"Well…" Gordon mumbled. "We'd cornered the Joker and some of his goons by the docks. SWAT went in to take them down, and they were attacked by the Batman. Christ, you should have seen him. It was terrifying. He took them all down, without breaking a sweat. And then he went for the Joker. Around the time this was happening, I got a call to tell me that Wuertz and Maroni had been murdered. I left then to find out what the hell was going on. While I was gone the Batman took down the Joker. SWAT moved in and took him into custody. And they got a nasty surprise – turned out the 'Goons' they were trying to take down before the Batman attacked were hostages made up to look like goons. If the Bat hadn't stopped them, it would have been a massacre.

"Anyway, soon as they'd got the Joker I got the call to tell me what had happened. They tailed the Batman for a while. Long enough for us to figure out where he was headed, anyway – Two-fifty fifty second street".

"That address sounds familiar…" the Mayor interrupted.

"Yeah…" Gordon continued. "It was where Rachel Dawes – the assistant DA – was killed. She must have meant something to the Batman. Maybe that was the thing that pushed him over the edge. Anyway, Dent managed to get wind of it. You might not know, but he had asked Miss Dawes to marry him. He arrived there about the same time I did, before reinforcements got there. I thought maybe I could talk the Batman down. Like you said, I knew him. At least, I thought I did.

"I told Harvey to wait outside, and then I moved in. The Bat was… broken. Hysterical. _Ranting_. Talking about how none of them had really made a difference. He said it was time for them to take a more… permanent approach to fighting crime. I could tell by his eyes that he had snapped.

"Harvey followed me in. As soon as the Batman saw him he lunged. I couldn't draw my gun quick enough. The Bat crashed into Dent, and they both went over the edge. Fell about twenty feet to the ground below.

"I got down there as quick as I could. By the time I did, the Batman was already up and running. I checked Dent but he was already dead. Reinforcements showed up then, and we chased the Batman through Gotham for a while. He managed to escape.

"And that's basically everything. I don't know what caused the Batman to snap. All I know is we have to do everything we can to take him down. He's now the most dangerous man in the City".

Silence fell over the room. The Mayor seemed to be absorbing what Gordon had said, and trying to decide whether he believed the story. "And that's everything?" he asked. "Nothing else you want to tell me?"

"No, sir", Gordon said quickly.

The Mayor studied Gordon's face for a few more moments, and then he leaned back in his chair once again. "Fair enough", he said. "You have my authorisation to use whatever resources and whatever means necessary to take this bastard down".

Gordon nodded. "Thank you, sir", he said. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes", the Mayor said. "A couple of things. You know that our relationship with the Batman will come under scrutiny, don't you?"

Gordon nodded again. He knew that they would have to answer some difficult questions, but right now that wasn't his major concern.

"The press are probably already outside", the Mayor continued. "We're going to have to face them, and I'd rather do it sooner than later. And… there's some other news I have to share with you. News that I maybe should have told you earlier.

"The Batman went to Hong Kong… You remember, right? To get Lau. Now, I'm not going to ask you whether you knew about it. As far as I'm concerned, that bastard got what was coming to him. But as soon as the Batman started to operate outside of Gotham's borders – and in a foreign country, no less – he became a national problem.

"To put a long story short, Jim, the Feds are sending someone to Gotham. There's nothing I could say to stop them. Agent… Rudra, she's called. She'll be here in a day or two. I expect you to cooperate with her, and show her your full hospitality.

"Having said that, the Batman is our responsibility. I'll be damned if I'm going to let some FBI Agent come down here and order us around. _We _are going to take the Batman down, not the Feds. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir", Gordon said quickly. His heart had jumped into his mouth when the Mayor had mentioned the FBI. He had been prepared to handle his own people, but Feds? What if they started digging in places that they shouldn't be?

Well… at least it was only one agent.

Suddenly, the Mayor stood and walked around the desk until he stood in front of Gordon. "It's time to face the music, Jim", he said, and he walked out of the room.

After a few moments Gordon followed him. He knew what was coming.

As they moved down the stairs the hall below quickly filled with reporters. The flashes from the cameras blinked furiously, and Gordon had to shield his eyes from them. The Mayor raised his hands about his head, appealing for calm.

"People", he said loudly. "We'd like to make a quick statement, and then we'll answer your questions. As you no doubt know, five murders took place yesterday. The police are investigating these killings, and we will update you every step of the way".

"Commissioner!" a man's voice called out. Gordon looked at him and nodded slightly. "Commissioner, can you give us any more information about these killings?"

Gordon hated reporters. He hated being on camera. He hated the whole… façade. All this did was take him away from doing his duty. He seriously thought about turning around and marching back into the Mayor's office. But… there was no getting away from this. He would have to face the cameras eventually, he knew.

He rubbed his face wearily. He took a deep breath and formed the words carefully in his head before he spoke. "At approximately 10:30pm last night", he began, "word reached me of a series of murders which included two police officers, including Detective Michael Wuertz of the Major Crimes Unit, as well as known mob boss Salvatore Maroni, and District Attorney Harvey Dent. Evidence suggests that these murders were committed… by the vigilante known as the Batman".

Gordon flinched inside as the murmurs spread across the crowd. They'd started when he had mentioned Harvey Dent's name, but they had reached fever pitch when he had mentioned the Batman.

Gordon cleared his throat before he continued. "As of now, the Batman is an outlaw. We will be putting together a special team to hunt him down, and I urge anybody with any information about his identity or his location to come forward. This man is a vicious killer, and anyone around him could be at risk.

"Alright… does anyone have questions?"

The reporters erupted into a cacophony of cries, each trying to get their questions across at once. They reminded Gordon of sheep. They just… loved this stuff. They didn't care about the people who'd died. They just wanted a good story, and they had one.

One of the Mayor's aids had joined them on the stairs, and he tried desperately to calm the crown down. It took a few minutes, but finally some semblance of order was restored. The aid gestured at one of the reporters.

It was a woman, who Gordon thought was wearing far too much make-up. "You said that the evidence points to the Batman", the woman said. "What evidence, exactly?"

"Eye witness accounts", Gordon replied quickly. "The last of these murders – the killing of Harvey Dent – was committed in close proximity to a police operation".

"So…" the woman said. "The eye witness is a member of your police force?"

Gordon looked down, and there was a long pause. Then he raised his head back up and continued. "I was witness to the murder of Harvey Dent", he said. As he did, his voice started to crack. "We pursued the Batman for a short time, before losing him in the Palisades".

Gordon was trying to zone out, to keep himself distant from what was happening. That way, he thought, he might have a chance of being able to keep this charade going. But when he had talked about Harvey Dent his mind had taken him straight back there, and his heart had started pounding in his chest. He struggled to breath.

Another reporter – a man this time – started to speak. Gordon did his best to compose himself. "Commissioner", the reported said. "Your department has long been rumoured to be in league with the Batman, with some even suggesting that the Batman was a cop himself who had been sanctioned by the MCU. How do you respond to this accusation?"

Gordon opened his mouth to speak. He didn't know what he was going to say – in all likelihood he would have said something that he would later regret. The Mayor stepped in before he could speak, and Gordon silently thanked him.

"These accusations are complete fabrication", the Mayor said loudly. "Official policy has always been to arrest the vigilante known as Batman on sight. He has always been a criminal in the eyes of the police".

"Then why is he still at large?" the reporter asked. "If you'd caught him two years ago when he first appeared, then Harvey Dent would still be alive today".

Gordon couldn't take any more of this. He marched forward through the crowd, having to shove reporters out of the way as he did. A car was waiting for him outside. He climbed in, and let his eyes close.

This wasn't going to work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The MCU building was in pieces. It was barely two days since the Joker had been locked up there, and two days since he had escaped. In the process, he had set off an explosion which had destroyed half of the building, killing nearly a dozen people – cops and criminals. Construction crews had moved in pretty quickly, and they had salvaged at least a little of what had been stored there.

The sections which hadn't been damaged were still in use – the city's budget apparently didn't stretch to providing an alternate location. Gordon's office had been, and he had moved himself into one of the administrative offices at the back of the building.

He had headed straight there after the Mayor's office. Where else did he have to go? His home was now empty, and unwelcoming. He had no friends that weren't cops – none that he could drop in on, at least. So he came here, to a building full of people that he was lying to.

The office door was locked. It was a tiny room, but he had managed to move a desk in there that he could at least work on. He was hunched over a small piece of paper, frowning in concentration. On the paper was a short list of names. His name was at the very top, followed by the names of his wife and children. Then the names of three cops – Anderson, Lee and Stephens – were listed with question marks after their names.

It was a list of the people who he suspected knew the truth about the Batman. Of course, he wasn't sure about Anderson, Lee and Stephens, but he wasn't going to take any chances with them. He would have to speak to each of them, but he had no idea what to say. He had been on the brink of spilling his guts to Stephens that morning, but he knew it would be a mistake to talk to anyone about it, even if they already knew. You could never tell who was listening in.

Gordon let out a long sigh, and leant back in his chair. Something had been nagging at him for a while – something that he hadn't wanted to think about.

Three days before, Assistant DA Rachel Dawes had been murdered, and Harvey Dent had suffered horrific scarring to his face. They were kidnapped, knocked unconscious, taken to separate locations and tied up in a room full of explosives. This happened during the short period of time that the Joker was incarcerated in the MCU building.

They tried to save them both – Batman and Gordon's team. But they were too slow. Only Harvey came out of it alive, and he was… _changed_.

But… how had they been taken in the first place? There couldn't have been a struggle, could there? Surely someone would have seen – Harvey was under almost constant police watch, and Miss Dawes had holed up in Bruce Wayne's penthouse. They were meant to be _safe_.

Gordon knew where this train of thought would lead. They were taken by someone they knew. Someone they trusted. Someone who made them feel safe.

They were taken by a cop.

Gordon picked leant over his desk and picked up his pen. There was one more name to add to his list.

Anna Ramirez.

* * *

"Anna? Are you shittin' me?"

Gordon was troubled by where his thoughts had led him, and so he had gone to the one man that he still felt he could trust with them – Stephens. Anna had always been one of their best. Gordon had hand-picked her for the MCU, and the idea that she could betray him – that she could throw his trust right back in his face – made him sick to his stomach.

Stephens, for his part, had taken it upon himself to guide Ramirez through the complexities of working in the Major Crimes Unit. Of course, she'd worked in homicide – worked her way up from a street cop in near record time. But the MCU had its own politics and its own problems that needed to be worked around, and Stephens had been Ramirez's guide through them.

"Listen", Gordon said. "I know it's difficult to accept, but she's the only one that makes sense. Her and Wuertz. Christ, we've got it on camera! She lead Dent to the car, and then he was gone. And Rachel Dawes would have trusted her because she was one of us. Doesn't it make sense?"

Stephens looked down at his feet. Gordon knew how he was feeling – the same way he was. But they were cops. They had spent their lives believing that the facts led to the truth, even when they were leading somewhere horrible.

"Why is she still alive?" Stephens mumbled.

"What?" Gordon asked.

"Why is she still alive?" Stephens repeated, louder this time. "If she was the one responsible for Rachel Dawes' death, why is she still alive when Wuertz is dead?"

The door opened behind them suddenly, and a nervous looking Sergeant walked into the room. "I'm sorry, Commissioner", she squeaked. "But you've got a visitor".

Gordon looked at the Sergeant for a few moments, annoyed at the interruption. Then he let out a long sigh and turned back to Stephens. "I need to talk to Anna for myself", he said. "Find her and bring her here".

Stephens looked far from happy – this was, after all, the second conversation with Gordon that had been cut short. But he nodded and, without another word, left to seek out Anna Ramirez.

Gordon watched him leave, and then he turned to the young sergeant who had interrupted them. "What sort of visitor?" he asked her angrily.

"Um…" the sergeant replied. She looked down at her feet, and Gordon felt a pang of guilt.

Gordon rubbed his head with the tips of his fingers and closed his eyes. All this crap was making him… _tetchy_. If he wasn't careful, he knew, he'd end up losing his temper every time someone spoke to him. "What's your name, sergeant?" he asked.

"It's Lewis, sir", she replied quickly. "…Sarah", she added a little hesitantly.

Gordon smiled. "Well, Sarah" he said softly. "Would you take me to this visitor?"

Lewis smiled and led the Commissioner away.

* * *

The Commissioner was led through a maze of corridors, past chaotic offices and people at work, towards the back of the MCU building. Neither Gordon or Lewis spoke a single word while they walked. For his part, Gordon was too engrossed in his thoughts about Ramirez, and his struggle to decide whether he really believed that she would turn against him. Lewis was just too nervous.

She stopped next to a line of security tape, which had been erected to block entry to the side of the building which had been destroyed by the Joker's bomb. Gordon was a little surprised to see that the tape had been cut.

Lewis turned to face him. "She's inside", she said. "I'm sorry, Commissioner, but I couldn't stop her from going in".

Gordon frowned. "Couldn't stop who?" he asked. "Who is this visitor?"

"She's…" Lewis said. "She's a Fed".

Gordon's eyes widened as realisation dawned. _Damn_, he thought to himself. _I'm not ready for this yet_. He smiled at Lewis and dismissed her. When he was alone he took a few moments to prepare himself, and then he walked through the security tape. He had to duck to get through the collapsed door, and nearly lost his footing more than once as he slowly made his way through the rubble that had once been the Major Crimes Unit.

He found her standing alone in what used to be the building's cells. This had been the centre of the explosion, and there was almost nothing left – the ceiling had partially collapsed, leaving a massive pile of destruction on the ground. It was beside this that their _guest_ was stood.

"Such… destruction", she said softly without turning. Her voice was deep, and she had an accent that Gordon couldn't quite place. "How could one man cause so much damage to this place? This building was meant to be secure, wasn't it?"

Gordon gritted his teeth. "The Joker wasn't _one man_", he growled. "He was a force of nature. It was impossible to predict what he was going to do next".

Finally the woman turned to face him. Her skin was dark, and her eyes were brown. She was very attractive, though she looked as though she could handle herself in a fight.

"Forgive me", she said with a smile. "I wasn't criticising anyone. It's just hard to get my head around". She was toward Gordon and reached into her suit jacket. When her hand came back out it was holding her badge. "Agent Rudra, FBI. Pleased to meet you, Commissioner".

She held out her other hand and, after a moment's hesitation, Gordon took it in his. "Likewise", he mumbled.

Rudra's smile widened. "Commissioner", she continued. "I get the feeling that you don't want me here. But believe me when I say that I have no intention of getting in your way. I'm not here to take over your investigation. I'm just here to advise, and to offer assistance if I can. And trust me… it's not every day that the FBI offers its resources to city cops".

Gordon didn't know what it was about her, but something made him take an instant dislike to her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it – she seemed genuine, if a little over-eager. And he had to admit, the thought of being able to call on the FBI database when he wanted appealed to him.

But it was still dangerous to have her around. His world was now nothing but lies and deceit. He hoped that she would be too focussed on the Batman to pay him any attention.

"So…" he said. "Why are you offering me all this help? What is the Batman to you?"

"The Batman", she replied quickly. "Is an international terrorist. I'm sure you haven't forgotten what happened in Hong Kong, and what subsequently happened to Lau. The Chinese are at our Government's throats, demanding that the person responsible for the death of a Chinese National be brought to Justice".

Gordon smiled thinly. "The Joker was the one who murdered Lau", he said grimly. "Burned him alive, if I remember it right".

"That's true", Rudra replied. "But the Joker didn't invade their country. He didn't break into one of their most powerful businesses and assault their police force". Rudra held Gordon's gaze for a few moments, and then she put her hands up in front of her. "Look", she continued. "Lau was scum. There's no denying that. Hell, if half the stories I've heard about him are true, then he got what he deserved. But he was a Chinese National, and he was taken from Chinese soil. The diplomatic stink that it's caused won't just… die down, it'll drag on and on until the Batman is caught and punished. And I'm here to make sure that happens".

Another smile spread across Gordon's lips. "I thought you said you weren't here to interfere?" he said.

Rudra's face fell. She was trying to hide it, but Gordon had gotten under her skin. "Look", she growled. "You go after the Batman, I won't have to interfere. Either you cooperate with me, or I'll remove you from this case and you can follow your family to Cleveland. Am in understood?"

Gordon's face flushed red with anger, and his fists clenched tight. Who did this woman think she was? He wanted to scream at her for talking about his family. But… he knew that would only make things worse. Instead, he turned around and, without a word, walked away. He heard Rudra's voice call after him, telling him that they weren't finished, but he didn't stop walking.

Once he had gotten out of that room, and back into the main part of the building, he let out a long sigh and waited for his heard to stop pounding in his chest. While he was waiting he saw Stephens enter through a door on the other side of the office. Their eyes met, and Stephens nodded. Anna Ramirez was here.

* * *

"How was she", Gordon asked. "On the way over here I mean. Anything suspicious?"

He and Stephens were stood outside Gordon's makeshift office. Though the window he could see Anna sitting by his desk, sipping a mug of coffee.

"Jim, she was fine", Stephens replied. "A little shaken, I guess, but after what she's been through, who could blame her". He frowned, and after a brief pause he added, "They say she was attacked by the Batman".

Gordon looked at him angrily. Now wasn't the time for that. Without answering, Gordon grabbed the door handle and walked into his office. There was a loud bang as the door slammed into the wall. Gordon hadn't meant to open it so violently, but he found that he was just so… angry. angry and tired.

He paused on the way to his chair and looked Ramirez over briefly. She had a cut on her forehead which had been stitched up, and her eyes were dark. He smiled dryly; she looked as bad as he felt. Then he silently walked to the other side of his desk and sat down in the leather chair. He leant forward and put his elbows on the desk, and rested his face on his hands. For the longest time neither of them spoke.

There was tension in the room. Both of them felt uncomfortable, but Gordon wanted it there. He wanted to put pressure on Ramirez, to see how she would react. She struggled to meet his gaze, instead keeping her eyes lowered to the ground. When Gordon felt that the silence had lasted long enough, he spoke. "How's your face?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound warm.

Ramirez smiled, though it seemed forced. "It's fine, thanks", she answered. "How… how are the family?"

Gordon's moustache bristled, and his eyes lowered. "They're fine", he replied. "Or they were the last time I saw them. Barbara took the kids and left last night. She was horrified by what happened, and I don't blame her in the slightest. I don't think James really understands how much danger he was in, but Barbara… She didn't even hesitate. They've moved to Cleveland – we have relatives up there, and I think they'll be alright. He leaned back and rubbed his face. He didn't like thinking about his family. Each time he did, a horrible pain formed deep in his stomach. "But they're not hurt, which is the main thing".

He shook his head, and when he looked back at Ramirez he was surprised to see that her eyes had filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Jim", she said, her voice quivering. "I'm so –"

"Why did Harvey go after you?" Gordon interrupted. Ramirez didn't answer; she just looked down at her feet. Gordon decided to prompt her. "He needed someone that my family trusted… didn't he?"

Ramirez looked up. Gordon knew that he had given her an out. He had provided her with a way of putting all responsibility onto Dent, and from the way her eyes lit up he knew that she would take it. His heart sank – it looked as though his suspicions of her were right. Ramirez nodded. "That's right", she said quickly. "He had a gun to my head, Jim. I don't… I didn't want to do it…"

"I know, Anna", Gordon said. Gordon had leant forward and had his hands covering his mouth. "It's OK. It's OK".

Ramirez was getting more and more hysterical. Gordon wondered if it was all just an act. Was she just pretending to be guilty, in order to earn his forgiveness? Or was she genuine…He had no way of knowing. "He _forced _me to Jim!" she cried. "He was crazy! He was saying that he thought it was me who sold him out an-"

"Was it?" Gordon interrupted, calmly. Ramirez only looked at him with a blank expression. Gordon struggled to keep his voice calm, but his heart was pounding. Would she tell more lies, or would she come clean. Gordon already knew the answer. He felt himself getting angrier and angrier.

Ramirez, for a few moments, said nothing. She managed to hold Gordon's gaze for a few seconds, and met his anger with the blankest of expressions. The length of time it took for her to answer made Gordon think that at least she was conflicted about her answer. That was better than nothing, wasn't it? But direct questions are always the hardest to answer.

"No", she replied eventually. "No… it wasn't me. I swear it".

Liar, Gordon thought immediately. He forced his face to remain neutral – he didn't want to reveal anything to this woman. He couldn't trust her any more. He never could. And that realisation broke his heart.

Gordon nodded, to try and reassure her. "OK", he said soothingly, though he couldn't meet her gaze. "If you say it then I believe you".

He looked her in the eyes, met her gaze and forced a smile.

She returned his smile, and appeared to relax a little. "Thank you, Jim", she said, and took a long swig of her coffee before setting her cup down on the table. "Is there anything else? It's just… I'd like to go to my mother, if that's OK".

Gordon nodded in understanding, but he wasn't finished. "There's something important we need to talk about", he told her, his voice suddenly cold and emotionless. "About the _Batman_".

Ramirez nodded. _Good_, Gordon thought. _At least she knows. That should make this a little easier._ Gordon had realised immediately that she must have known the truth. She was attacked by Harvey Dent, in retaliation for what she did to him… and to the woman he loved. He had to contain that knowledge. However much he hated the woman at the moment, he knew that she would have to be kept close, to guard his secret.

And then… realisation dawned on him. He was condemning this woman not only for what she had done, but for the lies that she was telling him. But he was guilty of lying too, wasn't he? Of lying to each and every person that he saw.

Gordon was tired. He still wasn't sure he was doing the right thing; hell, he didn't even know what _doing the right thing _meant anymore. But he was listening to a friend, and that friend told him that this was the way it _had _to be.

"Harvey was…" Gordon said after a long pause. "Harvey _is_ a beacon of light for this city. A _hero_. Whatever happened towards the end was… it wasn't his fault. I truly believe that. The Joker tore him down… and if I'd been through those things then I honestly can't say for sure I'd have acted any differently". That feeling in his stomach had come back again. Every time he heard that man's name, his mind immediately went back to the day before. Dent's scarred and mangled face haunted him. He knew that it always would.

"If the truth came out", he continued, "then… all those convictions, everything we all fought for would be torn down. So the _Batman_ volunteered to take the blame, to keep Harvey's reputation intact, and to keep hope alive that we can bring Gotham back from the brink".

"Jim", Ramirez protested. "That's bullshit, if you don't mind my saying so. It's hope based on a lie… based on a compromise. And the one thing I've always respected you for is the way you don't ever sacrifice people for a so-called greater good – you always try to save everyone".

Gordon knew that she was right. He hated compromise. All his life he had worked within the rules that he had been set. He had found comfort in them. They gave him something to follow, guidelines to stick to. He had always believed that they kept him safe. But the moment he decided to move outside of the rules he had lost all faith in them. Now they felt more like… shackles. He looked down at his feet.

"You're right", Gordon said weakly. "I hate this… I hate the whole idea. But I just… _can't_ bring myself to do anything different. At the same time, I don't know if I've got the will to keep this charade up. I mean, who knows how long we'll need to".

"No…" Ramirez interrupted. "I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have said that. This is a difficult situation, and I don't envy you being in the position you're in. Whatever you choose to do I'm sure it's what you think is right. That's just who you are".

The two officers stared at each other, and both of them smiled. It was probably the first time since they had entered that office that a smile had been genuine. Both of them had been through hard times recently, and, even though they might not want to admit it, they found comfort in sharing their troubles. After several seconds, Ramirez rose from her chair and walked around the large, wooden desk that separated them. She stopped close to Gordon, who looked up at her. She leant down to him and planted a soft, comforting kiss on his cheek. Though it was brief, Gordon savoured her sweet smell as she got close to him.

And then, as quickly as she had moved close, Anna moved away toward the door. As she reached it she stopped and turned back towards Gordon, but kept her eyes towards the ground. "I can't get his face out of my mind", she said, her voice shaking. "Every time I close my eyes I see him… half handsome and half hideous, but all terrifying. And his coin… his coin just won't stop spinning".

Gordon looked at her sympathetically. "I see him too", he replied. "There's a lot of false blame being thrown around without us throwing it at ourselves, too. And perhaps his coin won't stop spinning until you decide which side it should land on".

Ramirez looked up at him. "Bye, Jim", she said.

"Bye Anna", Gordon replied softly as she walked out of the door.

Barely a few seconds passed before there was a loud knock on that same door, giving Gordon no chance to reflect on the conversation he'd just had. It was Stephens, who walked in and stood in front of Gordon's desk.

Gordon looked at him for a while, trying to find the words to explain what he was feeling. It was Stephens who broke the silence.

"So…" he said. "Was it her?"

After a brief pause Gordon replied. "Yes", he answered. "I think it was".

Stephens' face contorted in disgust. The news seemed to hit him as hard as it had hit Gordon. Of course he'd be disappointed, Gordon realised. Ramirez had been like a sister to him. "Christ", Stephens said bitterly. "Weurtz I can believe, but Anna? _Why_?"

Gordon sighed and stood up. "I don't know", he said calmly. "Keep a tail on her. Let's see if we can figure it out". He walked towards the door, passing Stephens. "And… get me some information on this _Agent Rudra_. I want to know what I'm walking into".

Stephens nodded and left the room quickly. Gordon looked down at his desk. The peice of paper with his list of names was still there, staring up at him. Gordon's heart sank as he realised that there was one more name he had to add to it. Once more person that he would have to deal with. He picked up his pen and scribbled it on the paper. When he put the pen back down, he was overcome with... sickness.

_The Joker..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Gordon couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off the screen. It was the eyes that gave him away, even more than the scars. They seemed to watch_ everything_, like a hawk.

The Commissioner looked at the men and women stood around him. He could see the fear in their eyes, even though there was a brick wall between the Joker and them. And it wasn't just fear, but _surprise_ as well. When the Joker was on his rampage around Gotham, the people watching on TV - the people who never went through the horror of seeing him in the flesh – they thought it was the make-up that made him who he was. Even though they could see the things he'd done, they still thought that he was just a pantomime villain. Gordon wondered if that's how they thought of the Batman as well…

But now, with the Joker sat in the MCU interview room again, without make-up, without his purple suit… he was still just as terrifying. Gordon hated what he was about to do.

"Everybody out", he said without looking around. "Now".

A dozen confused eyes suddenly locked into him. He met their gaze without blinking. "I mean it", he said. "Everybody get out of here. I'm going in to talk to the Joker".

He knew who would speak up first. At least, he knew that it would be one of two men – Anderson or Lee. They already didn't trust him. He felt their eyes burning into him every time they were near.

"What the hell are you talking about, Commissioner?" Lee asked. "This is bullshit, and you know it. Nobody interviews without another man backing them up. It just doesn't happen, period".

Gordon turned sharply to face him. "I'm your superior officer", he growled. "You'll do what I tell you. Is that understood?"

Lee held his gaze for as long as he could stand it, and then his eyes fell to the floor. He slowly turned away and walked out of the room without another word.

Gordon looked around at the shocked faces that surrounded him. They had never seen him act this way. Hell, he'd never seen _himself _acting this way – he was running on adrenaline, hoping that if only he could _keep going _then no one would have time to stop him.

"Anyone one else?" he asked. There was no answer. They shuffled out of the room, one by one, until Gordon was left alone. After a few moments, he noticed a sharp pain in both of his hands. He looked down – his fists were clenched tight. So tight that his nails had dug deep into his skin and drawn blood. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried to force himself to relax. His heart was pounding.

When his head had cooled, and he had come to terms with what he was about to do, he walked slowly over to the monitors and disconnected the recorders. There could be no record.

The door to the interview room was cold and heavy. And _locked_. They weren't taking any chances with the Joker. Gordon panicked for a moment when he couldn't immediately see the keys to the room, but then saw that they had fallen to the ground beside his feet. He knelt down slowly and picked the keys up.

The lock on the door clicked open, and Gordon pushed it open and walked inside.

The Joker sat at the table at the centre of the room. He looked naked without his make-up, but the grin that spread across his face when he saw Gordon was the most terrifying thing the Commissioner had ever seen. Gordon stood by the door, not willing to let it close just yet.

The Joker leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. "Hello, Com_missioner_", he said.

Gordon's loosened his grip on the door, and it slipped slowly out of his hand and slammed shut. He pulled the empty chair out from under the table and sat down. He leant back in his chair, partly to try and look relaxed, but mostly because he wanted to be as far away from the figure opposite him as he could. God, what was he _thinking?_

"You're not pleased to see me again?" the Joker asked. "You know, I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us. I mean, sure, I tried to kill a couple of your friends. Sure, I shot you". He leaned further across the desk, and Gordon couldn't help but shuffle even further back into his sear.

"But…" the Joker continued. "Didn't we have a blast?"

Gordon took another deep breath and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "No", he said calmly. "We didn't. You're a monster, and I'm going to make sure that they put you away for the rest of your life".

The grin on the Joker's face grew even wider. "They won't", he said confidently. "You know they won't. All I need to do is walk in there and tell them how _sick _I am, and how much _help _I need. And they won't even send me to prison. They'll send me to hospital, and I'll be free in a year.

"Does it hurt you, to know how utterly futile your life is? How little what you do matters? Can't you see how crazy you are to keep going when everything works against you?

"Don't judge me, Jimmy. The only difference between you and me is that I accept things as they come".

"Don't try your games with me", Gordon interrupted. "I'm not you. I'm not the Batman. And I'm not Harvey".

"Oh, but you _are _like Harvey", the Joker sneered. "Just like him. Idealists. Deluded. I chose Harvey. Do you think the outcome would have been any different if I'd chosen you?"

Gordon didn't answer. He tried to hold the Joker's gaze, but he knew the answer. Harvey had been better than him, and the Joker had torn him down as low as a man could go. There was no way that Gordon could have stood up any better.

"Hmmmmm…" the Joker continued. "Maybe I'd have paid your wife and kids a little visit. That would have been _nice_. _Happy families_".

"What are you trying to prove?" Gordon asked, calmly. "That you can intimidate me? Fine, OK,

you can intimidate me. But I'm not in handcuffs and chains. When this conversation is over, I can go home to my bed. I'm free".

The Joker suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. The sound grated – it was more like a wheeze than a laugh. Gordon waited patiently for the sound to die down.

"I take it you disagree?" he asked.

"You're the one in the Asylum, Commissioner", he said. "There are more of the insane outside than in. You know that first hand. And when this conversation is over, I _am _going home. And I'll be going with a smile on my face".

"You're insane", Gordon whispered.

"That hurts me, Com_missioner_", he said. "We're like a family, you and me and the Batman and Harvey. Oops, I forgot; Harvey's dead. And that's what you're here for, aren't you? You're here to try and reason with me, because I know that I won. I know all the _great things_ Harvey did. And you're trying to take that away from me".

Gordon could feel things slipping away from him. How did he think this would go? Did he think he would just walk in here, order the Joker around and that he would just go along with him? This was a stupid thing to do.

"I love it", the Joker continued. "What you're doing is more twisted than anything I could think up. You're going to build Harvey up as some kind of hero. And when it finally comes crumbling down… it will be so much more _beautiful_.

"You're a cruel cruel man, Commissioner.

"But… I like to give people a fighting chance. I'm fair like that. So I'm going to make you a proposal".

Gordon hesitated for a moment. "Which is?" he asked nervously.

"I'll stay quiet", he said with a sneer. "I'll keep my mouth closed about Harvey, for the rest of my life, however long that'll be. Which is what you want, right?"

It was. It was the whole reason he was here. But he knew there would be a catch. There always was with the Joker. He nodded, slowly.

"But…", the Joker continued. "When I go to trial, I'll tell the Judge my sob story. I'll tell him about my abusive father, and my Judas of a wife, and I'll tell him how _sick _I am. And he won't send me to jail, oh no. He'll send me to a nice, comfy hospital for a year or two. And when they let me out – which they will – I'll come after you, and your family, and _every single person around you_. And I'll _rip_ your life down around you, just like Harvey.

"On the other hand… I _could _plead guilty. I'd go to jail. I'd maybe even get the death penalty. Doesn't that give you a _warm_ feeling inside, Commissioner? All you need to do… is tell the truth. Isn't that what you want to do anyway? Tell people about Harvey _now_, and you'll never hear from me again".

Gordon's hands had started to shake. It was true… deep down, he _wanted _to tell everyone. Not just because it would free him from this lie which had engulfed his life. He wanted to tell everyone because… Harvey had betrayed him. Harvey tried to kill his son. And he wanted everyone to know what a sick, twisted monster he was at the end.

He stared into the Joker's eyes. Neither man blinked. Finally, after almost five minutes of silence, Gordon had his answer.

"…OK", he said with a sigh. "You win. I'll tell people the truth. Everything about Harvey. Everything about the Batman. Everything about the lie. And you _will_ plead guilty. And you will go to jail".

The Joker nodded. "I'm a man of my word", he growled.

Suddenly, the door to the interview room swung open violently. Lee marched in. Gordon was about to stand up and shout at him, but before he could he caught sight of the figure walking behind him. It was Rudra.

_Shit, _he thought. There was no way he could explain any of this. She wasn't supposed to be in the MCU that day. Lee must have called her. _Shit._

Rudra fixed him with a look that would make the Devil himself cower in fear. "Out", she yelled. "Now".

Gordon glanced back at the Joker as he got out of his chair. He knew that he couldn't trust him, but there wasn't really any other choice.

Gordon followed Rudra out of the room. She waved Lee away dismissively, and he left the two of them alone.

Rudra sighed loudly. "Jim", she said wearily. "What the hell are you doing? I get that things got personal between the two of you, but there are rules that you have to follow. You can't go into an interview with a homicide suspect without someone else with you. I'm going to have to file a report on this".

"He wasn't on his own".

Gordon and Rudra spun around in surprise. It was Stephens. He had snuck up on the two of them while they were talking. He stood there with a smile on his face and a plastic cup of coffee in his hand.

"…What?" Rudra asked.

"I said he wasn't on his own", Stephens said. "I was in the interview with him. I just left to get a drink". He lifted the cup up and shook it a little, as though he thought that Rudra wouldn't see it otherwise.

"Sorry", he continued. "My fault".

Rudra frowned and looked back to Gordon. "Is that right?" she asked suspiciously.

Gordon shrugged, ambiguously. Inside he was thanking God that Stephens had been around. _I need to give that man a raise, _he thought.

"OK…" Rudra said. To Gordon, it looked as though she _wanted _to believe them. "What about the cameras?"

"Yeah…" Gordon said. "I've been meaning to have a word with the tech guys. They keep breaking down".

Rudra sneered, but she didn't push things any further. "Fine", she said. "But this interview is over. You don't speak to the Joker – or any other suspects, for that matter – without my knowledge. Understood?"

Gordon nodded, though he was a little angry. "I thought you said you weren't taking over my investigation", he said.

Rudra smiled. "Not yet", she said. "You know what? I think I'll speak to the Joker myself. I've been planning to. Now's as good a time as any. And what will he tell me if I ask him what the two of you – sorry, I mean the _three _of you – talked about?"

Gordon shrugged. "I don't know", he said. "You can't trust anything he says".

Rudra let out a bitter laugh. She pushed open the door to the interview room and walked inside.

Before the door could close fully, Gordon heard her speak again.

"So, _Mr Joker_", she said. "Why don't you tell me how you got those scars".


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"The moment the Batman passed over the borders of another country, he was ours".

Smoke filled the air, and Gordon's lungs burned with each breath because of it. He sat at his desk – or what was passing for his desk these days. Rudra sat opposite, already on her second cigarette. It was the morning after. She had spent almost an hour with the Joker – in fact, Gordon had left for home before she finished. Gordon hadn't been allowed in to the interview, and she wouldn't tell him what they had spoken about. But he wasn't in a cell, so he figured his secret – _secrets _– remained safe.

"He _is _ours", Rudra said. She sat leant back in her chair, legs folded, as though she didn't have a care in the world. But Gordon was tense. Even if she didn't know his secret, she knew _something _wasn't right. Stephens had managed to wriggle Gordon out of a tight spot, but there was no way in hell she would be satisfied with the answers they'd come up with.

But she hadn't spoken of it. Hadn't even mentioned it. So what washer game? Was she just… waiting for the right moment? Was she playing him? Or was she really just here to help?

"You've told me that already", Gordon mumbled. "Batman kidnapped Lau – a Chinese national – and forced him back to Gotham – back into our jurisdiction. Which makes him an international problem now".

"Right", Rudra said, nodding. "But it's not just us and the Chinese that are after this fucker. _Everyone _wants his head – the British, the Russians… _everyone_."

Gordon had leant forward while she had been speaking. "Why?" he asked.

"Because they're losing their shit, that's why", Rudra said loudly. She took another deep breath of smoke, and blew it out in Gordon's direction. "Look", she continued. "How do you think _our _Government feels having some jack off running around in its _greatest city_ beating the crap out of people? And what if the _police force _that _they funded _were working with him instead of locking him up where he belongs?

"We know you thought he was on your side. We know you thought you were going some good. But the idea that you needed to rely on him in the first place is just… embarrassing to them. It… _emasculates _them, I guess. Takes their power away and puts it into the hands of a man behind a mask.

"This is the greatest country in the world, and we can't handle _one man in a suit_? That makes us look bad, for a start, and it makes people around the world think 'Hey, maybe I can dress up in a suit and do whatever the hell I want, cos I think the cops can't do shit'. He's a _symbol _of… what? Of sticking it up the Government's ass.

"Other countries have been keeping tabs on him for about a year or so, waiting for some… blemish. Some dirt that they can use to turn people against him. Propaganda, you know? Up until Lau they were only mildly interested, he was our problem. But when he went into Hong Kong, they all realised that our borders don't really mean anything. The Batman has no jurisdiction.

"Aaaaand… now they have the dirt on him they wanted. They want to tear him down in front of the world. They want to rip off that mask and show everyone that all he is is just another shit head, and then they want to execute him".

"Woah", Gordon said suddenly. "You're talking like it's a forgone conclusion. What about… exceptional circumstance, diminished capacity… what about all the good he did before this?"

"It's horse shit", she replied bluntly. "They want to make an example of him. No ifs, no buts. If he's caught – _when _he's caught – he'll get the death penalty, for the murders he's committed.

"And we get the wonderful job of bringing the son of a bitch in". Rudra smiled widely.

_God_, Gordon thought. _This woman's a believer…_

Silence filled the room. Gordon's head was spinning, his heart pounding. He knew that the Batman would likely get the death penalty if he was brought in, but he hadn't allowed himself to think about it. But this lie… it wasn't just a career, or a marriage, or a reputation that was at stake… it was a person's life.

"So…" Rudra said, cutting through Gordon's thoughts like a knife. "How are we going to do it?"

Gordon answered with the slightest of shrugs. He knew that whatever he suggested, she would likely ignore him. She seemed to be asking questions for which she had no interest in the answer.

"I'll tell you", Rudra continued with a thin smile. "We're going to do it the exact same way we would if we were going after some scumbag mobster, or some drugged up murderer. We can't admit that the Batman is a special case. He has to be normal. We have to treat this case like any other. That way we're not buying into the _myth _of the Batman. He's just a man in a suit and a cape. People need to realise that".

Rudra slowly reached into her top pocket and pulled out a box of cigarettes. She slid the box open, and Gordon could see that there were only a couple left. She lifted one of them out and put it in her mouth.

"Of course", she said as she reached into her other pocket. "We have to _act _that way for the public". She pulled out a box of matches. She pulled one out of the box and struck it. The match burst into flame at the first attempt. Rudra held the match up in front of her face, so that it was right in Gordon's line of sight. "If we start to think that way then we'll all burn".

"So…" Gordon said. "We pretend like we think he's just another nut, but we send everything we have after him. That makes sense, I guess".

Politics. That was what Rudra was talking about. She didn't just want to bring the Batman in; she wanted to tear him down at the same time. It was… _twisted_, in his opinion. But in some strange way it made him more relaxed. She was trying to take the Batman on two fronts, when one would probably be too much. They'd be stretched even thinner.

Gordon put his hand over his mouth and nodded. "I don't play politics", he said. "But if that's the way we have to do it, then I guess that's fine. But we don't even know where to start. There are no clues to who he is or where he is. If he chose not to stick his head above water, then there's no way we could find him".

Ramirez sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair. "You know what?" she said, her voice suddenly tired. "I need a drink".

* * *

Gordon grabbed the two bottles from the counter and thanked the girl behind the bar. He shivered a little as the coldness reached its way up his arm.

Outside it was cool. It was fall in Gotham, and the time of year always brought a cold wind to the streets. Rudra sat at a small table in the back corner of the bar, and Gordon walked slowly across the room towards her. It was quiet – it had barely passed noon, after all.

He handed Rudra her drink, which she thanked him for, and sat down opposite her. It was an unexpected break, but one that he was grateful for. Since... _Dent_, he hadn't allowed himself to relax for one second. He had to keep up his act twenty-four hours a day, or risk the whole thing falling down around him. He'd started to think he might be this way for the rest of his life.

Gordon smiled across the table at Rudra. He didn't trust her, but just because he didn't trust her didn't mean she was an enemy. She seemed to try so hard to make herself… _helpful. _To try and convince him that all she wanted was justice. He couldn't read her. If it _was _an act, then it was a good one.

"Tell me about yourself", he said softly.

Rudra frowned, as though caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Gordon laughed involuntarily. "Just… tell me about yourself", he repeated. "Hell, I don't even know your first name. If we're going to work together, I'd like to know a little about you".

The frown remained for a few more moments, but then her face softened into a thin smile. She took a swig from her bottle, and then her eyes met Gordon's. "I guess that's fair", she replied. "It's Sandra". Then she looked off into the distance, as though trying to remember.

"I was born in China, to Indian parents. My father was… nothing, really. Just a construction worker. One of thousands of immigrant workers who moved to the orient in the seventies, looking for work and a better life. My mother followed him, though in the few years I knew her she didn't seem happy.

"She died when I was a young girl. Murdered. In fact, one of my earliest memories is seeing my mother's corpse all dolled up in an open coffin".

Gordon shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm sorry", he mumbled. Rudra waved her hand dismissively.

"After she died my father seemed to lose his way a little. I think he hated China, you know? Hated the idea that him dragging her there somehow caused her death. We stayed there until I was ten, and then we came to America. The land of opportunity.

"We were illegals. There was no work. We lived together in one room, barely able to scrounge enough food from one day to the next. It wasn't a happy childhood to say the least.

"But… eventually I got to school, and I did really well. Managed to go to college, get a student Visa… I studied criminal psychology. I don't even remember why. Just something that I felt I needed to do. I don't think there was ever a plan to go into law enforcement. It just happened.

"But I'm getting a little ahead of myself. I graduated with honours, but I didn't go straight into work. I spent… a long time just travelling the world, seeing what it had to offer. I speak six languages, you know. Useful in my line of work.

"By the time I got back, I was twenty-six, and I already had a healthy disdain for this country. Don't look so surprised, Jim. Did you think I was just a mindless patriot? No… the things I do I do because I believe in them. If my boss told me to do something that I didn't agree with, then I'd tell him to stick it up his ass. Have done, actually. Couple of times. I think that's why he likes me.

"So I came back, applied for the Feds. Flew through training – my years of travelling toughened me up, and my… _experiences _obviously ticked the right boxes. I've been working for them ever since".

Gordon took another swig from his drink, and emptied the bottle. "Interesting", he said. "So… what's your stake in the Batman case?"

That frown appeared again. Gordon couldn't decide whether he believed it, or whether it was an act. "What?" she asked.

"You just said that the things you do you do because you believe in them", Gordon replied. "So… what is there in the Batman case that you believe in?"

Rudra laughed bitterly. "You spotted that, huh?" she mumbled.

"Well", Gordon said with a smile. "I am a cop".

Another laugh, louder this time. Gordon, despite himself, was starting to like this woman.

"I guess…" she said. "I guess it's to do with my mother. When she was murdered, my father wanted nothing more than to hunt the bastards that did it down and slaughter all of them. He almost drove himself insane with his anger.

"But he didn't. And you know why? Because he believed in the system. He believed that, if he let the cops track them down and arrest them, then they would get what they deserved. It was the cops' responsibility to bring these men to justice. That stuck with me, and to this day it is something that I believe in.

"And then, twenty-five years later, the Batman shows up, and suddenly it's _not _down to the police to catch criminals. It's not their decision – people who have been trained, educated in the ways of this country's legal system – whether these people are guilty or not. Oh no, just because a fucker with a mask and a cape and a shit load of fancy toys shows up, suddenly he's in charge of this city's law and order.

"Well, I say fuck him. Fuck the Batman and his pompous, holier than thou attitude. What gives him the right to decide who should go free and who should get the crap kicked out of them? Huh?

"Don't get me wrong, Jim – I'm glad that you worked with him – and don't try to deny it, because everyone knows you did, even if they're not saying it. At least that way the GCPD could at least keep track of what he was doing. But he was always a loose cannon. He had too much power, and too much influence, and it was inevitable that sooner or later the idea would creep into his head that , hey, he's already Judge and Jury, so why not be Executioner too?"

Gordon sat quietly while she spoke. As she had been, her voice had slowly gotten louder and louder, angrier and angrier. By the time she had finished, the few people who were in the bar with them were all staring at her. As she calmed down she noticed their stares, and her eyes lowered to her feet. She grabbed her drink and downed what remained of it.

"Fuck", she said.

Gordon waited a few moments for her to calm down a little more. "I agree", he said. "I always have. I think he was helping, for a while. Putting a little fear into the mobsters and the psychos on Gotham's streets… but you're right. He had no right to do the things he did. No one appointed him, no one vetted him. One day he just… decided that he was right, and he went on his vendetta, and we were all left trailing in his wake".

More silence followed. Had they reached an understanding? Gordon definitely felt as though he could understand her a little better. He stood up and bought them both another drink, and by the time he got back from the bar Rudra was smiling again. The anger that had appeared so suddenly had slipped back beneath the surface again.

"Thanks", she said, taking the bottle that Gordon offered her. "So how about you?"

"How about me what?" Gordon asked with a smile.

"I told you my story", Rudra replied. "Now it's your turn".

Gordon took a swig and smiled bitterly. "You've read my file, right?" he said. "It's all in there".

Rudra laughed. "Your whole life's in there?" she asked. "Every detail? Fair enough. I have to ask one question, though".

Gordon sighed. "Shoot".

Rudra leaned forward, across the table. When she spoke her voice had lowered almost to a whisper. "You were a sergeant for… how long?" she said. "Twelve years? Your career was at a dead end. There was no sign of a promotion, or of anything changing.

"But when the Batman showed up, suddenly you were important. Two months after he showed up you were promoted, to lieutenant. And then, eighteen months later, Loeb gets killed by the Joker, and now you're the Commissioner…"

Gordon paused before he replied. "I'm not hearing a question here, Agent" he said.

Rudra smiled. "My question is…" she said. "Do you owe your career to the Batman?"

Gordon sighed. It was something that he'd asked himself a lot over the past few months – more since he'd become Commissioner. There's no way he'd be Commissioner if the Batman hadn't been there. No way in hell. Sometimes… sometimes he thought that the Mayor only made him Commissioner because of Gordon's relationship with the Bat, and not because of how good he was at his job.

The truth was… he did owe his career to the Batman.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of Gordon's phone. He was silently relieved, as it meant that he wouldn't have to give Rudra the answer that suspected she already knew.

He put the phone to his ear. "Gordon", he said.

"_Jim_", a voice said. It was Stephens, and he sounded breathless. "_Jim, you'd better get back here quick"._

"Why, what's happened?" Gordon asked.

"_Anderson… and Lee"_ Stephens replied. "_They've been murdered"._


End file.
